


Give Me Time

by theoddling



Series: Break My Heart Right (Luba x Reader) [1]
Category: Mute (2018)
Genre: F/M, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, References to Alcohol, spoilers for Mute (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27774454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling
Summary: One too many bad dates leads to a slip of the tongue confession of feelings for your best friend, but what happens next?
Relationships: Luba/Reader
Series: Break My Heart Right (Luba x Reader) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031844
Kudos: 3





	Give Me Time

“You know, Y/N,” Luba mused, resting his chin on his hands as he watched you strip off your coat and shoes, frustrated from another failed date. “I could help you work out some of that tension. Might make finding someone easier, or make you reconsider if you need to.”

You sighed in annoyance, not really looking to rehash this old argument. “Thanks but no thanks, Luba.”

“You’ve rejected me so often over the years but go out with boring men who would never be able to do the things I could to you, for you. I’m starting to think I should be offended.”

“I...can’t sleep with you, Luba,” you found yourself admitting, the feelings you had been covering up for so long bubbling to the surface as the thin walls you had managed to put up caved instantly under his gaze. “You’re my best friend…”

“Exactly. What’s a little sex between friends?”

“It wouldn’t just be sex to me, it would...mean something, and it wouldn’t to you. And that’s my issue to deal with, but it’s not fair or right to put that expectation on you.”

“What are you talking about?” He frowned, perfect lips twisting as if he’d just bit into something unpleasant.

“The truth is I love you. And right now, for as long as things stay the way they are, that’s platonic and friendly and doesn’t fuck anything up. But the minute we blur that line...I just can’t, okay?”

He was silent and you found yourself unable to look at him, even as his brilliant emerald eyes bored into you. You shook your head, making your way to your room, determined to just fall onto your mattress and let sleep erase the whole disaster of a day.

You paused in the doorway to cast a quick glance back at him where he hadn’t moved, almost as if frozen in place.

“Just...leave it, yeah?” you asked softly before closing the door behind you.

Luba sat there, unblinking. How could he forget those words, hanging sharp and sour in your wake?

~

Reluctantly, you rolled out of bed around two, the hungry growl of your stomach drowning out the siren's call of sleep. Padding out to the kitchen, your eyes danced past the place where Luba usually sat, where you had left him after your confession the night before, as if your mind didn't want to see it. Your coat had been hung neatly on one of the hooks, your shoes placed on the rack. You felt a pang of guilt that in your exhaustion and inner turmoil you had left the mess for him to clean up. You always seemed to be doing that in some way or another.

Your phone pinged, a message from your latest failed date. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him for now. You should have known better than to agree in the first place. Any man with a name as boring as Andrew and a willingness to wear a suit was either dull as mud, or into shit freakier than you wanted to delve; this time he, almost interestingly, managed to be both. If you were being fair, the date had gone fine even if there was no real spark. Until you were leaving the bar and he started spouting insinuations about what kinds of things you must be into, given what you did for a living. Maybe it was just because you'd each had a couple of drinks, and he'd had a couple more. But no one had ever managed to make the words “test subject” or “stitches” or on the flip side “executive stock dividends” sexy, and you really wished he hadn't tried. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples and questioning why, given all that, you were considering giving him a second chance, as you set two-day old leftovers to reheat. Maybe it was because he was dumb but he was harmless, safe, simple. Maybe it was because you would try just about anything to escape your feelings for your best friend and roommate, knowing you couldn't compete with a ghost and just hoping you hadn't already ruined everything.

Poking at your vaguely grey noodles, you decided to open Andrew's message, only to wince when audio played. 

“Y/N,” he slurred, obviously still drunk, or drunk again (or acting, you suspected, so that he had a defense if you responded negatively). “A name for a goddess. You are a goddess. My goddess. All I want in life is to worship at your feet and the air you breathe. I’m so sorry. I ruined everything last night, I don’t deserve you, but if you will only give me the time, I can fix it. I will do anything. I--”

“I can’t do this,” you muttered, pressing a series of keys to delete the message and block him before he could finish whatever rambling speech he had planned. You also sent a quick note to the other artist who shared your studio, making sure to warn her that if he showed up, he should be sent away post-haste. 

“Your first mistake was picking a foreigner,” a lilting voice teased from the corridor, making you jump. 

“Oh because your record leaves you any room to judge,” you sniped back, grinning at Luba as he glided into the room, dropping dramatically into the vanity chair in the corner.

“ _I_ don’t _date_ them. And none of them have ever called me a goddess or gotten that desperate after one encounter,” he simpered, faux-jealousy ruined by the giggles he struggled to hold in.

“Bullshit. What about that lanky ginger kid?”

“Gregor. He was sweet.”

“Until he broke in and hid under your bed. For three days.”

Luba gazed off into the distance wistfully, sighing. “I still say you should have bagged the officer that came to arrest the poor fellow.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because ‘Protect and Serve’ is really my type.”

“Closer than this one sounded. What did he do again?”

“Corporate accounting,” you admitted reluctantly. 

Luba turned to you with a long-suffering, ‘are you kidding me?’ look. 

“What are you doing to yourself, Y/N? You escaped those cold sterile halls, don’t put yourself back there for…” he waved his hands in the air in a vague gesture, as if indicating the not-there but thoroughly disappointing guy you had gone out with. 

You sighed. “If you know so much about it, what am I looking for then?”

“What?” he seemed taken aback by your question but you continued to push.

“You’ve clearly thought about my love life and have an opinion, so share it. What am I doing wrong? What’s going to make me happy?” you planted your hands on your hips, doing your best to be annoyed with him. 

He smiled wryly at you, tilting his head to one side as he rose from his seat and came to stand before you, arms draped over your shoulders. Your hands instinctively fell to his waist, holding each other in not quite a hug, as you did strangely often when having serious conversations, like when you told him you were leaving the prestigious research firm you worked at in order to start fresh doing something that didn’t make you feel like you needed a hot shower to get the scum of shame off you every night, or when he told you he was falling in love with Naadirah. 

“You need someone who understands you,” he said earnestly, “understands your lifestyle. Someone who is going to see you for who you are, not some idol on a pedestal, or something to be changed.”

“Someone like...you?” you asked, the words falling from your lips almost like a plea before you thought about what you were doing. 

“Y/N…” he murmured, voice strained.

You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your lips together, holding your breath as you waited for the sting of rejection. Instead, long fingers pressed against your back, drawing you closer, actually into a hug. He pressed his lips to your crown quickly before hesitantly tucking your head under his chin, holding you against him.

“I...don’t know,” he admitted softly. You felt the way he swallowed nervously and the minutest tremble of his body. 

“I didn’t mean to push, Luba. I know that Naadirah...well that you...anyway, I just...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” you weren’t sure anymore what you were trying to say, what you were trying to apologize for, whether it was just pushing the subject or admitting your feelings, or having them at all. 

He shook his head, the gesture tickling you. “No. Don’t, Y/N.”

You hummed in question, not sure what he was trying to say either.

“I think…” he was silent for a long moment before sighing heavily through his nose. “This isn’t the end of this discussion, I promise. But I need...just give me some time.”

You pulled away reluctantly, tilting your chin so that you could look him in the eye. “Of course. Anything you need.” You felt your heart breaking as you smiled. “If you want, it can be the end of the discussion though. We can pretend this never happened. I promise.”

“I don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series of connected oneshots set in this world and mostly about the relationship between Luba and the reader.


End file.
